You.

You make my heart sing,
My stomach swirl,
My breath quiver,
And my knees weak.

You.

You are the love I never knew I needed,
But the love I want—
The love I yearn for.
The way a newborn yearns for their mother’s breasts,
The way the ocean yearns for the sky,
The way a dying person yearns for one more day,
Yes, that is the way I yearn for you.

You.

You are every living person’s dream, my love
But lucky me, you are my reality, my only truth.
You are a walking temple of serene touches,
That melt my troubles away in mere seconds.
You are the reward for all my prayers and selfless deeds,
For I never thought I deserved to be loved like this.
You are my safe space, my saving grace, my lover
You are me, but better.

You.

I would love you on days I can’t even love myself,
Because you are worthy.
You are worthy of not simple love—
But of sincere devotion,
Of intense admiration,
Of maddening passion,
Of love that has the power to either save you from all the bad there is
or to burn you down to the ground.

You.

You use the pronoun she when referring to the gods,
It comes naturally to you, a true feminist indeed.
You hate jokes that are at somebody else’s expense,
Always politically correct.
You find consent hot, May I? Can I? Should I?
I say yes more times than I moan your name.
You read me to bed, every night, meticulously,
Like all those stories and poems were written for us and only us.

You.

You sometimes whisper my name in your sleep;
Gently push me away from the cars on the street;
Let me pick my own luggage because I hate it when someone thinks it is their duty to help me;
Caress my chest when my heart beats fast and anxiously;
Remind me to drink water;
Pull my chair closer even when I am only at an arm’s reach;
And make me say I love you instead of just ‘love you’ because that is not earnest enough.

You.

I love you
Thank you for choosing me
To love, to keep, to be yours.
You belong to me,
I belong to you.

You.